


The Turn Of A Decade (Brings With It New Hope)

by ravensnwritingdesks



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Birthday, Cute Ending, Dates, F/M, Falling In Love, Hopeful Ending, Insecurity, Introspection, Mutual Pining, Unexpected Visitors, birthday fic, lots of that actually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-23 11:06:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13786212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ravensnwritingdesks/pseuds/ravensnwritingdesks
Summary: On the day of his 30th birthday, Newt Scamander was far too busy to spare much thought for the future and what it might hold for him. But that didn't stop his overworked mind from dreaming about what he couldn't have.A few days later, he receives an unexpected note with an even more unexpected visitor following on its heels... and in the course of just one evening Newt realizes that his prospects may not be as hopeless as he thought.





	The Turn Of A Decade (Brings With It New Hope)

**Author's Note:**

> The chair creaked softly under his weight as Newt sank down in front of his desk and glanced at the two neat stacks of written pages. A deep sigh escaped him. After the long and frankly exhausting day he’d had, working on his manuscript really was the last thing on his mind. But there was nothing for it… it had to be done.

Another clipped note from his publisher last night had made the urgency quite clear: If he wanted his book to go to print on time for the scheduled publication, the last two chapters needed to be revised and sent in by Monday morning at the latest.

Flicking his wand, Newt set his banged-up travelling kettle to boil while a clean cup and saucer waited patiently right next to it. Tea. He needed a good, strong cup of tea if he meant to squeeze in another hour or two of editing before heading to bed.

A quick glance at the old fob watch told him that Thursday night had already passed into the early hours of Friday. And the Ministry expected him in for a report bright and early at 8 o’clock the next – no, this – morning. As if he didn’t have enough on his plate already.

Only three days left, and two of those at least in part spent at the Ministry… Mr. Worme had probably been right. Not for the first time the thought occurred to him that rushing the publication had been a foolish notion. But Newt had stubbornly insisted, and so the gears had been set in motion with his manuscript only half finished.

The steaming cup of tea finally settled down next to him as he was two pages into the first of the drafted chapters, revising his notes on the Swooping Evil. He would have gotten more of this work done today if his parents hadn’t insisted on having dinner with him. But his mother was hard to refuse… especially after he had spent the past year on the road. And it had been good to see her, if he was being honest.

“ _The wings of the Swooping Evil have spell-reflective abilities, though they are not as resistant to magic as Manticore hide._ ”

No, not as resistant as that. But it was good enough when in a pinch. Newt felt his thoughts slipping. _Dark halls... Running... A slender hand firmly grasped in his own as spells hit the columns to their left and right... What is that thing? – Swooping Evil. – Well, I love it!_

A smile tugged at his lips as the memories of their daring escape from MACUSA resurfaced. Tina’s words still echoed in his mind as he took a look at said creature, now hanging from a shelf to his right, curled into a small, seemingly innocent cocoon. No one would ever know how vital its role had been that day in New York, no one except a select few. President Picquery and her Congress had made sure that it would remain so.

Newt tapped his quill against his cheek, thought slipping even further from the task at hand. That whole part of his journey had been one unexpected adventure to be sure. And even more unexpectedly, an adventure that had left him with new friends.

 _At least I think so_ , he amended quickly as his eyes flitted up to the one and only letter he had received today.

Well, he hadn’t expected anything, really. And how could he, when he hadn’t said a word about it in their correspondence? They didn’t know it was – had been – his birthday. His thirtieth, to be precise… not that the number made much of a difference. This year at least he was not stuck on a boat, cramped into tight quarters with too many people. But he couldn't deny that a little part of him had hoped for a letter from his friends overseas. Just a regular one, even. A few words from Tina, detailing her week, her work, her life. They usually were a highlight of his week and a small reprieve from the hectic schedule he had placed upon himself.

A soft sigh escaped him. Porpentina Goldstein… She was probably the most unexpected finding of his travels yet. Certainly the one with the biggest impact, stealing herself into his thoughts as she so often did. It was always her doing the writing, though the letters were signed in the name of both sisters. Just as he himself always addressed his letters to them both, he suspected, even though his thoughts and words were meant for one of them more than the other.

But no matter how frequently he corresponded with the sisters, he really wasn’t much surprised that nothing had arrived from across the pond this week. All things considered, who was he to them? A casual friend at best, having spent all of a week together out of necessity. An annoying acquaintance from overseas at worst, whose rambling letters were replied to only out of politeness. Because that was what he did best… in the end, he annoyed people. And before long, he would annoy her too - no matter how hard he tried not to.

 _Best not to think about that,_ Newt reprimanded himself and slowly raked a hand through the messy mop of hair atop his head, fingers sending somewhat soothing sensations down his back as they scratched along his scalp. _Worrying means you'll suffer twice._ And it wouldn't prevent the inevitable either. Suddenly, a tired and disgruntled chirp sounded from above and stopped him in his tracks.

“Oh! So sorry, Pick.” Quickly, he retracted his hand, Bowtruckle already clinging to one of his fingers while uttering further sounds of displeasure. “I had quite forgotten you were still in there.” The little creature had a tendency to just fall asleep wherever he found a comfortable perch at night... and more often than not lately, that included his hair.

His reprimand continued as he sat Pickett down on the papers before him. “Yes, yes. I know. I work too much.” His green friend nodded in agreement. “It’ll be over soon, though. Three more days, then I should be done.”

And to do that, Newt remembered, he had to get a move on with the Swooping Evil chapter. Determined, he tried to focus back on the stack of papers, but the lines of his own handwriting now slowly blurred together in front of his eyes. Newt blinked slowly, shook his head and tried again. To no avail.

“I guess you’re right,” he finally sighed and looked at the Bowtruckle instead, who was blowing raspberries at him. Chuckling, he put the quill down again and moved to get up. “We should head to bed.”

Strong tea or not, he really wouldn’t get any more proper editing done tonight… certainly not with where his mind had been going before. That vicious disparity of what he wanted and what he would most likely get was a completely different beast to wrangle. One that he felt not yet equipped to deal with.

***

Monday morning saw the Magizoologist arrive at Mr. Worme’s office just in time to drop off the last two chapters of his book. Neither publisher nor author looked like they had had any kind of sleep in the past days, but both seemed equally relieved when the manuscript was rushed off to be set to print immediately.

It was noon before Newt Scamander took a seat at his desk in the Beast Division that day, feeling as if a huge weight had been lifted from him. Which, he mused, it had. The book was done and actually in print. The publishing date had been set in stone mere hours ago. Another month and he could go back to New York to make good on a promise... and to see Tina again. He was as much looking forward to that day as he was already dreading it.

Finally, his mind focused back on the work he had come to do. As usual a handful of departmental memos was waiting for him to go through... Locals had reported a rogue Hippogriff flying over the Scottish Lowlands. The DMLE needed an expert to identify some unknown organic object found during a raid. A growing Bundimun infestation in the Tower of London had to be taken care of before they took over the Brass Mount. And the Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic needed someone to get rid of the ghoul in his attic.

He sighed and sorted the papers by priority, starting with the Hippogriff and ending with the ghoul. Some wizards, he grumbled, really treated the Beast Division like a glorified extermination service for magical creatures. Hopefully, that would change soon though. Hopefully. With the help of his book.

The last of his post was a rare blue sheet from International Affairs and it was something entirely different from the usual memos. Newt could hardly believe his eyes when he unfolded the paper and skimmed over its contents.

 

* * *

 

Hands hidden deep inside the pockets of her coat, Tina paced slowly as she waited near one the numerous columns of oriels. This place felt so foreign to her. Foreign and, despite it’s vast proportions and ample splendour, very stifling. It was the same oppressive feeling that had made her time in the Wand Permit Office a nightmare. Being trapped so deep underground. The earth pressing in on all sides. Just a few inches of solid wall holding it back, providing her with the necessary space and air to breath. The Atrium was no different, being the lowest level of the entire underground beehive called Britain’s Ministry for Magic.

 _What am I doing here?_ It had been Queenie’s fault, of course. All of it. She hadn’t even wanted to go in the first place. But her sister – oh, her meddling little sister – had known exactly what to do and who to talk to and before the day had been up, her name was jotted down on the list of Aurors. Aurors accompanying the American Delegation to a conference in London. And now here she was… day three of their four-day-stay and the first time she had any real time off duty.

Her nerves fluttered as somewhere above a clock struck the hour. 6pm. What if he hadn’t read her note yet? Or worse, what if he had read it and decided not to show up anyway? She wouldn’t begrudge him for it, really. Recent correspondence aside, who was she to him? The witch who had tried to put him under arrest – twice – and then reluctantly tagged along as he went about saving the day. The unsung hero of New York.

And yet. The more rational part of her brain reminded her that he did want to see her again, asking to bring her a copy of his book in person. At some undetermined point in the future, the less rational part provided unhelpfully. A book that still hadn’t even been completed yet, if Newt’s letters were anything to go by.

 _Why am I doing this to myself?_ , Tina sighed internally as her eyes swept over her surroundings again. No sign of the Magizoologist in the steady rush of wizards and witches.

That note… it had been her sister’s fault, too. Queenie’s off-handed comments, the knowing looks and smiles had done their work and finally coaxed a promise out of her: to at least let the man know that she was in town. To let him make up his own mind about whether he wanted to see her or not.

Mercilessly, the clock kept on ticking, leaving her pacing, wondering.

If she had been less of a coward, she would have visited him in person… out of the blue, at his office in the Beast Division. But despite her brash demeanour, she was not that brave. Instead, one of the secretaries on Level 5 had made inquires at her request, assuring her that Newt Scamander was not on leave for research any longer. That he would be in today. And that he would get her note, if she used the interdepartmental memo system.

 _But when will you accept that he won’t come?_ One more time her eyes surveyed the Atrium before her, the eclectic crowd of witches and wizards now on their way out to go home. Blending in with the surrounding No-Maj world really did not seem to be a strong-suit for most, if the number of outrageous robes, pointy hats and unfashionable beards was anything to go by. Neither President Picquery nor Director Graves would have any of this among their employees, too big was the fear of exposure. But the British seemed to have a more loose interpretation of the International Statute of Secrecy by comparison... and from what she had seen so far, it seemed worked just as well.

A sudden feeling of being observed startled her from her thoughts. Slowly, Tina shifted her attention over to the right, towards the entrance of the cavernous hall lined with Floo grates. And there, just a few steps away and unmoving among the rushing crowd, he stood and watched her. Brown tweed, blue coat, messy hair and a suitcase – Newt, seemingly just as transfixed by her sight as she was.

Her lips curled up into a smile. He hadn’t decided to blow her off, after all.

Her shifting expression seemed to finally break the spell on Newt, too, prompting him to jerk forward and close the distance between them. “You’re here, Tina,” he said, still looking slightly stunned by her presence. “You’re… really… here. In London.”

She felt some of the tension leave her body at the sound of his voice. She had missed it, him, they way his accent wrapped around her name. A happy chuckle accompanied her nod. “Yeah, I am. Hello, Newt.”

It was then, that his face broke out into a wide smile. “Hello.”

He was dressed up to the nines, she noticed – at least compared to his rather threadbare appearance back in December – in a clean-cut tweed suit and a freshly pressed shirt. They had a relatively new look to them and even his well-worn boots seemed to have been polished quite recently.

“Going somewhere?” she wondered, unable to keep the small voice in her head quiet. He had probably just come by to say hello, it insisted, before heading off to whatever his plans for the evening had been. The picture of Leta Lestrange resurfaced unbidden.

“Oh, uhm.” Newt’s mumbling pulled her back to the present. An embarrassed smile appeared on his lips as he took in his own appearance. “No. No, I don’t have any plans for tonight.” A beat. And then he added in a rush, “Unless you’d like to join me for dinner?”

His gaze flitted up gauge her reaction for a short moment, before quickly dropping down to the safety of her shoulder again while he anxiously waited for her answer. Did he really think her answer could possibly be no? She had been the one to reach out, after all...

 _Birds of a feather_ , Queenie's voice echoed in her mind and Tina couldn't help feeling grateful after all as she smiled at him in answer. “Yes. I’d like that.”

“Good.” Newt nodded to himself, clearly relieved, and moved to offer her his arm. “Miss Goldstein.”

“Mister Scamander.” Tina chuckled softly as she moved to take a hold of the proffered elbow and they set off. 

He was wearing cologne, too. Just a hint, but enough for her to notice as soon as she stepped closer to him. A strong suspicion came suddenly to mind as to the reason why Newt Scamander had run a little late… and it made her smile even more. He must have gone and dressed up especially to see her. Which left her with one more question she couldn’t wait to find the answer to. _Where are you taking me, Newt?  
_

 

* * *

 

He had run late. Of course, he had run late… But she had still been waiting for him when he had finally turned up nearly 15 minutes after the appointed hour, watching the crowd and nervously pacing until her eyes had landed on him.

Thankfully, the evening had only improved from there. Their dinner at a little restaurant just off Diagon Alley was filled with slowly warming conversation, catching each other up on what hadn’t been put down in a letter yet. He was still a little stunned by her sudden appearance in his city – stunned and elated. This was far better than a letter on his birthday and Newt drunk it all up eagerly, every word, every look and every smile she directed at him.

“How is the book coming?” Tina asked while they waited for dessert, absent-mindedly fiddling with her nearly empty glass. Her finger traced the length of the stem, up and down, then swirling around the foot before moving upwards again. Until suddenly she stopped. “Newt?”

“Hm? Oh.” It took him a moment to remember the question, absorbed as he had been in watching her. “I just finished it, actually.”

“Really?” He was gifted with a dazzling smile, lighting up her entire face as twin dimples appeared on her rosy cheeks. “That’s great news!”

Newt nodded, grinning bashfully himself now. “Yes, I brought the last chapters in just this morning. A close call, but somehow I managed to get it done on time. My publisher could hardly believe it.” His fingers flexed in a phantom cramp, remembering the pains of the past weekend. For a time he had been sure that self-inking quill would be permanently morphed with his hand when he was done. Thankfully, that had not been the case though.

“Then I guess it was a lucky coincidence that I couldn’t get time off before tonight either.”

He chuckled. Lucky, indeed.

“I can’t believe you had no plans for tonight, though. You finished your book… that should be cause enough for a celebration, don’t you think?”

“I had meant to commemorate the day with a full night of perfectly good sleep, since that has fallen a little short in the past week or so.” Newt shrugged, unable to keep the sheepish grin off his face. “This is better, though.”

“Yes, this is better.” She raised her glass for a toast. “To you. And a successful first edition of your book.”

Newt took another swig from his glass of wine, smiling from ear to ear.

 ***

He had planned for a comfortable walk around Regent’s Park afterwards, but at her demand it had been dropped in favour of spending time with his beasts. And who was he to deny such a request? Instead, they took a short stroll through the city, back to Whitehall and the Ministry. In his office – the only place he could safely take her, really – Newt had put down his suitcase and propped it open for them to climb inside.

Tina had hung her coat right next to his, then proceeded to roll up the sleeves of her blouse and marched out of the door into the maze of habitats behind. She got right to work tending to the bouncing flock of Mooncalves.

Newt smiled. That had been about two hours ago now and already she had half of his creatures under her spell again. Enchanted himself, he kept lingering behind a cluster of trees, watching her from a secure distance.

A week. She had spend only about a week with him and his creatures back in December, watching and learning all about them with great interest. Now, two months later, she was back again… and fit right back in as if no time had passed at all.

 _I could get used to this,_ he mused not for the first time tonight, _having her here with me_. He shook his head, wondering at his wandering mind all day. All this… fretting… pining, after only such a short time of knowing her. It was bordering on ridiculous. He was ridiculous. If he was being honest, this strange pull had been the sole reason for why he had insisted on working like a maniac these past weeks. On getting his book published before the summer. So he could go back to see her again – and find out whether time and distance had tinted his memories of their time together in a more rose-coloured hue or his pleasant memories actually served him right.

As it turned out, time and distance had not altered a thing. The chemistry was still there. And her unexpected presence only highlighted how much he had actually missed her company since leaving New York.

At the moment she commandeered the attention of the entire Bowtruckle branch, happily feeding them woodlice while he himself had stepped away to look after those creatures less inclined towards other people. One of the Bowtruckles – Poppy, he noticed – perched on her shoulder and played with a few strands of her hair.

Newt grinned, instinctively checking on Pickett in his pocket, and stepped forward. “Careful, or you might find yourself with a leafy companion, too.”

Her happy expression almost blinded him when she turned around to face him. Chuckling, Tina picked the little creature up and let her walk over her hand. “I don’t think I’d mind that, to be honest. MACUSA wouldn’t be too pleased, though, with the ban on magical creatures and all.”

He rolled his eyes, a sheepish grin on his lips. “Some laws are meant to be broken, Tina.”

Laughing, the Auror held her hand up, bringing Poppy up to face her. “True. But I don’t think you’d enjoy New York much anyway, huh? Not too many trees, for one.”

Pickett agreed vigorously from his pocket, his animated chirps echoed by the creature on Tina’s hand as they conferred. Amused, Tina watched the exchange between the two creatures until her eyes landed on him again and their gazes met. There was something in her eyes, now and  over the course of the evening, a certain look he dearly wished he could decipher. But he had always been particularly bad at that kind of thing, at least when it came to his fellow humans.

His attention drifted to the leafy figure on her hand again, as he desperately thought of something to say. But apparently, that hadn’t been the right thing to do either.

“I think I better go now,” Tina finally broke the silence, smile fading as she moved to return the Bowtruckle to its wand wood tree. “It’s nearly midnight and-”

“Can’t you stay just a little longer?” Newt nearly regretted his words – they had slipped past his lips unchecked, a careless blunder in a moment of weakness – if it hadn’t been for the tender look from her he received in return.

“I’d love to, Newt. I really do. But my next shift starts in less than six hours and I can’t be late for that.”

He nodded silently, aware that their evening had to end eventually. Tina was only in town for a few short days, after all. “When are you due to go back?”

“Tomorrow. The delegation leaves at noon, unless there’s new developments. Which I doubt there will be.”

Newt managed a smile. “Well, at least this evening has been a better birthday surprise than any letter could have been.”

Her eyes bulged. “It’s your birthday?”

“No, no.” He chuckled, gesturing for her to calm down again. “But it was. A few days ago.”

“I didn’t get you anything!”

“Of course not. You didn’t know. But… you’re here… and, like I said, I think that should count as a very nice gift indeed.”

There it was again, that look in her eyes. Only this time cut short by a Billywig descending curiously right in front of his face. He nearly stumbled over his own feet as he tried to take a step back in surprise, causing Tina break out in giggles.

***

He walked her back to the hotel. _Ever the gentleman_ , she insisted, even though she surely must know that he was anything but.

She pulled him inside to find shelter from the cold February night and the snow that had just begun to fall. Awkwardly they stood in the small lobby, now empty of any patrons, sharing looks and smiles while neither wanted to be the first to say goodbye.

“It’s been...” Newt finally started, unsure how to continue. Good to have you here? A wonderful surprise? Over too soon for my liking?

“Yes, it has,” she finished, smiling, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she had kept a budding talent of legilimency from him.

“I, uhm. I have something for you,” he said, before she could turn to leave.

On his way up the ladder and out of the case, a glimpse of blue had caught his eye, sparking an idea. He now fished the piece of heavy paper from his coat pocket, freshly off the press only this morning, and handed it to her for inspection.

“That’s…” She quickly looked up at him, clearly lost for words.

“Yes, it is.” An invitation for the launch of his book - with the very title she had proposed during their last goodbye. His publisher had handed him an entire stack of those invitations to distribute among his friends and family, but so far he had only handed out the one. “It’s still about a month away, but I thought… maybe… you’d like to come.”

She nodded, clutching the paper tightly between her finger. “Yes, thank you!”

“Good.” Again, they stood awkwardly together for a few moments as Newt silently debated whether he should repeat his parting gesture from the last time or not, touching a strand of her silky-soft hair. Or maybe he could go one step further and let his fingers slide along her jaw this time.

But Tina broke him from his contemplation when she gave a soft announcement of her own. “I have something for you too, Newt.”

He looked up barely in time to see her step forward, closing the short distance between them. And then her hand cupped his jaw as she leaned in to touch her lips to his cheek. A barely-there, feather-light contact, enveloping him in her lovely scent. When she pulled back again, a soft smile illuminated on her face, alongside that _look_ of the evening. “Good night, Newt.”

“… good night,” he answered slowly. Still thunderstruck, Newt stood and watched her take a step back, then another and another, until she had finally vanished around a corner and probably up to her room. She had kissed him. _Tina_ had kissed him. And her lips felt soft as they looked against his skin.

“I don't think she’s coming back down.” Startled from his dumbfounded state, Newt turned to find the bellman giving him a wolfish grin. “You should have gone up with her, mate.”

 ***

He could not remember how he managed to find his way home that night, much less how he got into his case. But there he was, standing by his desk when Dougal tugged at his sleeve to get his attention. It was long past midnight by now, according to the fob watch in his hand, and Tina’s kiss wasn’t the only thing keeping him in a nebulous daze anymore. The Demiguise held up something for him to look at.

“What have you got there, then?” It was small square of fabric, light blue and subtly trimmed with delicate lace.

"Oh." A woman's handkerchief. Tina’s handkerchief, he realised. “She must have lost it, running around with you lot.”

Dougal nodded in agreement, then vanished with a pleased purr when Newt took it from him. He should probably return it to her… but it was unlikely they would run into each other at work tomorrow before she left for New York. He brought the fabric to his nose. It smelled just like her.

Newt nodded to himself and finally climbed out of his suitcase to get some rest for the night. One more month for his book to come out. One more month until he’d see Tina again. And until then, he’d keep this little memento for her. Safely tucked away inside his own pocket.

Something new, something hopeful, told him that she wouldn't be annoyed by that.

**Author's Note:**

> Just like Tina, I'm a little late for the party. But still... Happy Birthday, Newt!  
>   
> Thank you all for reading! Let me know what you think, your comments and kudos will be very much appreciated.  
> If you are interested in getting a notification for any new story I post, you can subscribe to my [AO3 profile](http://archiveofourown.org/users/ravensnwritingdesks/pseuds/ravensnwritingdesks).  
> You can also follow my tumblr [@ravens-and-writings](https://ravens-and-writings.tumblr.com/) for updates, previews and other fun stuff about Newtina, Fantastic Beasts and the Potterverse in general.  
> <>


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